


The End

by SilvCyanide



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Final Haikyuu Quest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 21:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11471640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilvCyanide/pseuds/SilvCyanide
Summary: There was once a demon king with loneliness in his heart, a thousand enemies and a single friend. There was once a story of a demon king and how it all comes to an end.





	The End

Once upon a time there was a young demon prince with coldness in his gaze, weights on his shoulders and loneliness in his heart. Once upon a time the young demon prince snuck out with a directionless sense of purpose and a need to escape the emptiness of his castle, with nothing but a white cloak over his head and a pouch on his belt. He wanders deep into the forest and meets a scruffy village boy.

That’s how the story starts.

They are an odd match, one not-human with eyes carrying the heaviness of ten thousand years and the other a small human boy with black hair, green eyes, and a stubbornness worth ten thousand years. They become the best of friends. 

The demon prince learns how to be human, and he gains his very first friend. He left the castle with a hundred sorrows in the furrow between his brow but returns with freedom dancing on his lips and a weightlessness to his step.

The demon prince and his companion grow up with the distance of a million miles and yet also the space left by their fingers linked together between them. They fight, they argue and they laugh. The years slip by.

The demon prince is now a king and the village boy has become a knight. One day the boy leaves on a journey on behalf of his king and the demon king bids him a dear farewell. As he watches the tall silhouette fade away, he’s struck by his very first bittersweet taste of love.

Three weeks later the king gets a message delivered by the weight of a messenger’s death and feels his heart shatter into a thousand shards of pain as he sees the bloodied and lifeless body of his only friend lying among the corpses of the traitorous members of his party. Arrow in the shoulder and cuts upon his self, his blood is still fresh.

Stricken with grief and the ache of loss the king wishes for something he has not the power to pay and finds a beating heart lying in the palms of his curled hands, a gaping cavity in his chest emptied with the stillness of his love’s limbs. The king laughs with madness and with joy, and the eyes that open are engulfed by a cover of red. He leaves with the welcome arrival of a shuddering breath. 

The king becomes a dictator and the humanity inside him weeps in the trappings of a cage forged by the loss of his heart. A wave of his hand now brings disaster and death rather than the growth of a flower aided by magic to awe the eyes of an impudent child that takes off a white hood and says he likes the horns underneath. A flutter of his lips promises the doom of many rather than the laughter of one. The coldness in his eyes, thawed into warmth, now freezes again and glints with the intensity of a collapsing star.

There is news of a crusade against an evil demon king, lead by a hero with hair the colour of sunset and his companion who embodied the night, accompanied by a knight in silver armour whose death is known to one but still lives and breathes anyway. The king listens and understands and smiles. He leaves his castle with his crown on his throne and nobody knows where he’s gone.

Two months pass and a man with brown hair, horns upon his head and magic and evil running through his veins glowers at a pool of sunlight as it streamed through the cracks in the shadow of a castle that stood once upon an eternity ago. The sound of footsteps in line with the beating of a heart that’s no longer there has him standing up in a flourish of robes and anticipation.

A knight stands before him, sword in hand and frown on his lips, anger sparking in his eyes. He doesn’t say a word, but his gaze conveys a message that would fill a dozen books and then some. He charges, and the man allows him to knock him to the dusty ground, allows him to pin his body to the dirt, allows the knight to point his blade at him without retaliation.

The man laughs and the sound that chases away the frigidness in his eyes and brings joy to his face is also accompanied by the dripping of tears onto his cheeks and the descent of the sword upon his chest. 

By daybreak, the hero’s party finds two bodies lying collapsed one on top of the other in the ruins of a crumbling castle. There was one with a pair of twisted horns and a black robe that soaked in the light but gleamed with a red sheen, and another with a heart that suddenly stopped and a fallen blade in his hand. Together they smile peacefully in eternal slumber.

And that’s how the story ends.

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=karWJrX8Ztg


End file.
